


Yours

by Zenniet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, Master/Pet, Petplay, Size Difference, Spanking, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 07:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Swerve wants to try something with Magnus.





	Yours

"Please," Swerve wheezed, overheated and overwhelmed, "Please make me yours." His cheek pressed eagerly into Magnus' doting servo.

When Magnus had first brought up the idea of collaring Swerve, doing a sort of 'Master' type of play with him, Swerve had already gotten revved up. While Magnus was going over what exactly such a kind of play would entail, Swerve was getting warmer and warmer by the second. The more it was detailed how he would be taking near total control over his little conjunx, Swerve was mentally forcing his interface paneling not to open.

"Swerve, are you sure that you're in the right place to be accepting this?" Magnus asked, optics scanning over his mini's excessively warm frame. Magnus was also very aware of Swerve's need to please; he didn't want Swerve to partake in this only to make the bigger bot happy. The red helm nodded against Magnus' servo,

"Yes, yes, more than sure, I promise." He, himself, was shocked at how much simple talk of the subject had affected him. Even as he kept his paneling shut as tight as possible, lubricant was still threatening to well up along the seams of his valve cover. Swerve, kneeling, pushed himself as close as he could to Magnus, who was sitting on the berth. 

"I'm not convinced," Magnus hummed, even though his thumb idly stroked at Swerve's cheek.

"I can be good, I promise," He whined, pressing his face into Magnus' servo, his own red servo on the opposite side to hold Magnus' to him. Magnus, as much as he wanted to have a serious conversation with Swerve, didn't make any move to remove his servo.

"That's what I worry about, Swerve." His tone dropped low, smoothing out from suggestive to stern. That got the message across, though it didn't really bear the result he wanted, with Swerve pulling away with a dejected little ‘Oh,’ and his servos falling to his sides as he looked down at the sheets.

"If you don't want to do that with me then... that's alright." Swerve sighed. The disappointed look on his little lover's face was almost enough to convince Magnus to throw caution to the wind and give in. Almost enough.

"No, no, Swerve, that isn't the case." His servo gently brushed against Swerve's, encouraging him to hold it. Thick, red digits slowly laced around Magnus' own. "I'm aware that you want to do everything you can to make me happy, and I just want you to know that you're my conjunx and you don't need to be afraid of upsetting me. Even if you do, we can hold a conversation and figure it out."

Magnus' thumb smoothed soothing circled over a portion of Swerve's servo. "I am willing to try this with you if you promise that you will speak up if something happens that you don't enjoy."

Swerve looked up at Magnus, searching for any sign that might tell him anything that Magnus hadn't cared to speak. 

"Do you think that I'm- like- that I can't stand up for myself?" Swerve muttered, his other servo clasping over the first that sat on Magnus'. He opened his mouth to speak, then fell silent in a sigh. "Okay, I promise I'll tell you if I don't like something." He relented. He always relented to Magnus in the end. He did acknowledge that it was what was best for him, and that Magnus usually did know what was best for him. "So how do we start?" 

"First," Magnus' voice dropped deep, and it made Swerve tremble in his grasp, "Let's get you in the mood for the scene." His servo cupped Swerve's cheek, the red mini already eagerly pushing into him as if he wanted to go through the big mech. 

“Ohhh- Mags, I think I’m already plenty in the mood so can we-”

“Since this is your first time,” Magnus spoke as though he hadn’t just interrupted Swerve, “I’ll be more lenient. One of my proposed rules is that you keep talking to a minimum, but this time, you can speak to tell me what changes you would like to make.”

“Right, okay, cool it on the talking.” Swerve said before quieting down and letting Magnus continue what he was doing. A large white servo pet down the Swerve’s cowl and his back, lingering there.

“I know that you want to be a good boy for me,” Magnus murmured, his servo slipping forward to caress Swerve’s side, “But that means that you have to know your own limits, too. I will be instructing you on what to do, but it’s up to you to tell me if something doesn’t feel good.”

Swerve gave a nod, keeping his lips shut.

“Good, now, on your servos and knee joints, please.” Magnus stopped petting Swerve to allow him to move. Once the mini got in position and stopped fidgeting, Magnus resumed his petting. 

“You’re doing so well,” Magnus hummed, softly running the back of one servo along Swerve’s front. Once his digits arrived at his pelvic plating, Magnus let two digits ghost against Swerve’s spike paneling.

Swerve’s elbows buckled, but he caught himself before falling into the berth padding. This petting was  _ maddening _ , his spike was already painfully hard behind his panels and his valve was making a mess. Magnus only chuckled and continued stroking down Swerve’s back. All he could do was try to control himself and wait for when Magnus decides to move on.

It took a shorter time than Swerve had expected. After the next few strokes, Magnus shifted slightly to be more behind Swerve than next to him, and the mini took the opportunity to lean his front down to the berth, hips raised to try to show Magnus how much he wanted him. It wasn’t as if the big mech didn’t know already, but Swerve guessed that giving him a needy display from his pet would get his attention.

All Swerve got was a slap on the aft, though.

“Not very modest, are we?” Magnus’ servo returned to the already heating plating that he’d just slapped, rubbing it soothingly. “I suppose you’ve been good, otherwise, though.” 

One digit tip tapped Swerve’s valve cover and the mini was more than happy to disengage it. He shivered at the sudden blast of cold air against his wet, heated mesh, but he grew accustomed to it quickly. He was soon back to gently rocking his hips to keep Magnus’ attention and try to convince him to do something,  _ anything _ other than continuing to pet him.

“So needy,” Magnus’ voice rumbled, his words coating over Swerve’s processor in that same need while his digits found and rubbed against the mini’s swollen anterior node. The sharp shocks of charge made Swerve’s legs tremble and his valve leak more lubricant that painted the backs of his thighs and showed proof of his arousal.

One thick, long digit pushed into Swerve’s valve and the mini let out a gasp at the sudden stretch. He quickly melted, though, front falling forward against the berth and hips needily rocking back onto the digit, trying to ride it like a spike. 

“What if I just let you work yourself to overload like this, would you do it?” Magnus asked, voice low enough to make Swerve shiver. “Even if you want my spike, if I asked you to get off on my digits, you’d do it.”

Swerve moaned and nodded into to berth, his digits gripping at the sheet. His charge was already so,  _ so _ high, it wouldn’t take long at all for him to tip over the edge. Just the simplest command, or praise, or anything, and Swerve would willingly overload on Magnus’ digits.

But nothing came. Magnus pulled his digit from Swerve’s valve and just waited. Swerve whined, huffing and shivering with the pent up charge that coursed through him.

“Don’t be impatient.” Magnus demanded. “Learn to wait for what I give you. Your valve is too tight for my spike right now, and if you overload, you’ll only be overstimulated later.”

“Master,” Swerve wheezed, feeling his valve clench on nothing and drip lubricant onto the berth, “Please just frag me, I’ll be okay,  _ please _ ,”

Only to receive another hard slap on his aft. This one made him cry out, holding the berth sheets tighter. 

“I’m your master, and you would do well to listen to me.” Magnus growled. “If you really want it, then I’ll frag your tight valve. I don’t know if you’ll enjoy it, though.”

“Please, Master, frag me, please,” Swerve begged once more. He’s taken Magnus’ spike before, with little or no preparation, and it hasn’t ever hurt too much. He quickly figures that Magnus is probably just playing it up.

But when he felt the blunt head of Magnus’ spike nudging past his valve folds, he couldn’t help but feel a bit unsure. Does Magnus know something he doesn’t, or did he just get in his head? Swerve couldn’t place it, but the nervousness only made his charge burn hotter.

The spike pushed past Swerve’s first ring of caliper’s easily enough, but each ring after that had Swerve writhing and whining at the stinging of the intense stretch, but Magnus didn’t stop. Swerve didn’t tell him to stop. 

Swerve genuinely didn’t know what was going on. Everything felt ten times more intense, and he wanted nothing but to be taken and claimed by the big bot that leaned over him. By the time Magnus set a slow pace, gently thrusting his hips and sliding Swerve onto his spike, the minibot was sobbing and moaning as if he were being fragged hard into the berth.

“Master, Master,  _ frag- _ I need you, I need you, Master,” Swerve babbled, letting his frame be used in Magnus’ servos, “Overload inside me, please, please-” His vocalizer hicupped and popped with static and distortion. The shivering in his little frame was enough to make his plating rattle, almost concealing the dirty, wet sounds of their arrays meeting and the clang of their plating against each other.

“Hush, darling, you are doing so well for me,” Magnus soothed, the back of one servo’s digits stroking down Swerve’s back. “Are you going to overload for me? Be good and overload around my spike.”

“ _ Master! _ ” With a lewd cry, Swerve’s valve constricted Magnus’ spike and the mini’s frame shuddered in his hold, his charge finally cresting over the edge. The tight, wet heat around his spike tipped Magnus into an overload as well, engine roaring as he filled and overfilled his minibot, their transfluid and lubricant sloshing onto the berth.

Magnus’ spike pulling out elicited a harsh, overstimulated shiver from the minibot as he tried to keep himself from collapsing into the mess they’d made on the berth. He felt shaky and hot all over, and every spot where his plating touched the sheet almost stung.  _ Nothing _ that touched him felt good, it all burned hot against him, too hot. Until Magnus’ servo held him, picked him up and moved him. Magnus laid on his back and he put Swerve to rest atop his front. His touch was gentle and comforting, and it made Swerve want to fall asleep in those arms like he’d done a million times before.

“You did well, Swerve,” Magnus was pleased, Swerve heard it in his voice and felt it in his EM field. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Y- yeah, I’m, uh, I think I’m a little bit shaky, but I’m good.” Swerve nodded, his digits loosely gripping Magnus’ plating, just to give them something to do. “I-... I liked this. I want to do this again, s-sometime, maybe.”

“I’m glad,” Magnus’ servo rested against Swerve’s hip, caressing the plating there, “Would you like to get cleaned up?”

“Sure, sure,” Swerve agreed. He knew Magnus probably cared more about getting clean than he did, but he was willing to humor him. After this, he’s willing to humor him in anything, if it could end up with similar results.


End file.
